Need
by Aerlinnel
Summary: My take on a certain all-too-popular plot (or, usually, PWP) device: the A/L rapefic. If you're a fan of them, this will disappoint you.


The journey from the foothills of Caradhras was weary and disheartening. When Gandalf at last called a halt for the night, there were relieved sighs on all parts.

Aragorn stood at Gandalf's side, drumming his fingers on the hilt of Andúril, seemingly gnawed by some sort of restless energy. "Gandalf," he said quietly. "I know that you wish to hold a council, but is there perhaps enough time that I might have a private conversation beforehand?"

The Istar nodded, watching the Hobbits as they shed their burdens and slumped to the ground with soft groans. "We will rest and sup before our council," he replied. "There is no hurry."

By a nearby tree stood Legolas, looking on silently as the mortals staggered under the weight of their exhaustion. Of all the Company, he was the only one unaffected by the long march, and pity showed clearly in his eyes as he noted that the others were nearly at the end of their strength.

As Aragorn neared him, the Man felt a surge of burning need. It had been long since he had any sort of release, and the constant stimulation of danger only served to whet his physical desperation. The Elf looked at him then, and Aragorn swore inwardly, hoping that his desire was not written on his face.

"Legolas, I must speak with you."

If the other harboured any suspicions as to the topic of conversation, he betrayed nothing in his nod of acquiescence. As the rest of the Fellowship set to establishing the makeshift camp that they had become accustomed to, Man and Elf left the clearing. Once they were some distance from the camp, Legolas asked, "Why need you to speak with me, Aragorn?"

Aragorn slackened his speed but did not stop, his gaze on the ground before him. Slowly, as if he were choosing his words with great care, he began, "It is…rather difficult to say."

"Then why not say it, and have it over with?" replied the Elf philosophically.

Aragorn did stop then, and turned to look at Legolas with an intentness normally singular to the Eldar. "If you would have it so, then…" He drew a deep breath and said quickly, "Legolas, I feared greatly for you on Caradhras. Indeed, I nearly spoke against your leaving – to find the Sun, or for whatever reason – and I surprised myself thereby. Why would I fear so much more for you than for the others, you who are likely the most capable of caring for yourself? This I wondered, and the reason I discovered…"

Elven eyes watched him steadily. Aragorn swallowed hard. "I must admit that I find you…extremely attractive. I know that Arwen awaits me in Rivendell, and I have never felt this way toward a male before, but…" He trailed off, awaiting a reaction.

Legolas did not move; his expression had not changed during the preceding confession. Encouraged, Aragorn stepped closer to him. "The nights are so long, Legolas," he whispered, "so long, and terribly lonely. And I thought that, perhaps, if you felt the same way…" He extended a hand to caress a braid that curved behind the Elven ear and along his shoulder.

With an abrupt twitching movement, Legolas's head was suddenly beyond Aragorn's reach. "I am sorry, Aragorn, but I do _not _feel the same way."

The Man blinked at the brief rejection. Memories filled his mind: glances, accidental touches that he had imbued with a deeper significance. "No?" he queried, letting scepticism colour his tone. "I think you underestimate my perceptiveness, Legolas. I have felt your eyes on me when you think no one sees. And what of your nearness atop Caradhras?"

A golden eyebrow slid skyward. "Should I not watch one of the leaders of the Company? If you have not noticed, my eyes rest equally on Mithrandir. As for Caradhras, I was no nearer you than anyone else. Do you remember the frigid winds? I believe that communal warmth was beneficial."

A slow, dusky heat began at the base of Aragorn's neck, spreading upwards to suffuse his face. "I – I had thought—"

"You were mistaken." Legolas turned toward the camp.

"Legolas." He halted and looked back to find the Man very close once more. "Is it possible that you are the one who is mistaken?" A pair of arms encircled the Elf's shoulders from behind; Aragorn blew back the fall of shining hair to reveal the side of Legolas's throat. "Now that you know the truth of my feelings, are you sure that there is nothing in you that responds in kind?"

Legolas shuddered as Aragorn's lips pressed against his skin. "Quite sure, Aragorn," he answered, writhing out of the Man's arms. He took one step away before being thrown and held bodily against a tree trunk.

Aragorn's eyes glowed, alight with a dark fire, only inches from Legolas's own. "Do not walk away from me, Legolas," he said in a low growl. His tongue flicked out to touch the other's tightly-sealed lips. "There are many things I wish to teach you, and I think that you will enjoy them, no matter how much you refuse to believe it now." As his hands were occupied in restraining Legolas's wrists, he took the tie of the Elf's tunic between his teeth, giving it a sharp tug to loosen it.

He was never afterward able to determine the exact following sequence of events. In a sudden flurry of motion, he was lying on his stomach on the forest floor, with Legolas straddling him and gripping his arms behind his back. "For the sake of the Quest and of your own dignity, Aragorn, I shall forget this incident. However, I would prefer that there be no repetition of this in the future. Remember—" His arms twisted as the Elf leaned closer – "—the inability to have is one kind of torment. The inability to _want _is another kind altogether. I would advise you not to try my patience."

Aragorn lay very still, absorbing the full meaning of the words, as Legolas stood and brushed off his tunic, neatly retying the laces. Then he held out a hand to the other, still sprawled on the ground. "Come, my _friend_. Let us rejoin the others."

His face aflame, Aragorn reached and gripped Legolas's hand, cursing himself silently for the involuntary reaction that the touch still aroused. The Elf pulled him easily to his feet and waited as he swept the dirt from his own shirt. Then both struck out, headed back to the camp.

So there to all you rapeficcers. Firstly, I don't see either Aragorn or Legolas as the type who would be into BDSM, as in the currently-popular "rapee who falls in love with rapist" stories. Also, Elves are overall taller, faster, and stronger than Men. Does that add up to Aragorn being able to physically overpower Legolas? Don't think so.


End file.
